Working for Love
by Batasyl
Summary: Workaholic Lucas has put his personal life on hold with only his assistant by his side. Can his assistant show him that there's more to life than his job?
1. Chapter 1

_Hello lovely readers...I have to tell you, my heart is breaking. I can't believe that GMW will be airing it's last episodes. I think I had exhausted all kinds of emotions this past couple of days. How can they possibly leave things the way they are? Cliff hanger much? I mean c'mon?! Seriously?!_

 _The only thing that keeps me grounded is the fact that there are stories out there that fills my RUCAS addiction...and the fact that I can write my own story. Only, I feel sooo depressed to even write anything. Well I did write something but I'm not really feeling it (wrote it the day I found out that the show was cancelled). Anyways, since I've written the story already, I figured I should share it in case someone out there may appreciate it._

 _Let me know what you guys think..._

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 ** _I posted this story earlier and I might have vented a bit but I can assure people that my life is not SAD._**

 ** _Guest - What a mean thing to say to someone you don't know. And I'd like to point out that I have written multiple stories for RUCAS and anyone can write anything given that this is a fandom. I don't know where your comment came from but it was uncalled for._**

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 **Working for Love**

"And the last bachelor up for bids is..."

Lucas tuned out the auctioneer's voice and wondered for the millionth time how he'd gotten roped into this. A bachelor auction was definitely not his style — even on Valentine's Day. But, he reminded himself, this was for a good cause.

Tugging at the collar of his uniform, he shifted uneasily as the auctioneer continued his sales pitch. Should he smile? Pose? He just didn't feel comfortable up on stage with a blinding spotlight shining on him. He hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt.

The auctioneer was driving up the bids — but all Lucas could hear was the roar of the crowd as women yelled out numbers and cheered each other on. Squinting into the lights, he tried to make out who was bidding on him, but to no avail.

Then, before he knew it, the gavel sounded. He'd been sold! But to who...?

He'd given Riley specific instructions to outbid anyone else, but with the Rogers deal about to reach critical mass, she could have been on the cell phone arranging a last meeting. His efficient assistant might be capable of keeping his chaotic business affairs in order, but even she couldn't arrange his schedule _and_ bid at the same time.

"Congratulations," the auctioneer said with a grin. "You went for the most money. Things got pretty heated there at the end." The older man glanced at Lucas' dark blue jacket. "Women have a thing for men in uniform."

Lucas didn't want to think about the scratchy nineteenth-century British naval officer costume he'd been forced to wear. A bachelor auction hadn't been enough for the charity organizers. Instead they'd offered a chance to bid on "Military Men through Time." He consoled himself with the thought that a heavy jacket and too-tight pants were far better than the toga he'd seen one poor guy in earlier.

Lucas stepped off the stage and into the crowd of women. He ignored them as he searched for a tall brunette with a cell phone in one hand and an iPad in the other. He found her by the side of the stage. As he approached, she tore off a check and handed it to the woman in charge.

He grinned in relief. "I thought you might be on the cell setting up the Rogers meeting and miss the auction."

Riley accepted the receipt and tucked it into her large shoulder briefcase. "I took that call while we worked our way through Christopher Columbus and Henry the Eighth. You're flying out to see Allen Rogers first thing Monday morning. I've arranged for Legal to review the initial offer and I've put off the press conference until Tuesday. If the meeting goes well, we'll have it. If not, there's plenty of time to cancel it."

She rattled off the rest of the arrangements she'd made while he'd been busy preparing to be sold to the highest bidder.

As always, her efficiency impressed him. When his assistant of four years had retired nearly nine months ago to spend more time with her husband and grandchildren, he'd doubted she could be replaced. But Ivy Lee's last act had been to find him Riley. At first he'd balked at the idea of a pretty woman in her twenties sitting in the office next to his. His assistant had to travel with him, be available seven days a week and generally keep his life in order. Foolish young women only interested in the latest fashions or finding a man need not apply.

But despite his misgivings, Riley had proved herself to be even better than he'd thought possible. Without her keeping his life running smoothly, Friar Industries would not be on the verge of closing a multibillion-dollar deal.

He glanced at the well-dressed crowd. "Let's get out of here before they rope us into staying for lunch."

Riley nodded and led the way to the waiting limo. As she walked, she stuffed her iPad and cell phone into her briefcase. She was shaking so much that she thought she might drop them.

What had seemed like a really cool idea at the time had instead turned into a nightmare. Knowing she only had herself to blame for the situation didn't make the knot in her stomach go away.

She could still get out of it, she told herself. All she had to do was tell Lucas that she'd used her own money instead of the company's and all would be made right. He would reimburse her and life would go on as before. Except then she might never get a chance at what she really wanted…to be seen as a person by the only man she'd ever loved.

Lucas held open the rear door of the limo, then climbed in after her.

"How much did you have to pay?" he asked as he began to unbutton his costume jacket.

"Four thousand dollars." Money that had just about cleaned out her savings account.

He raised his dark eyebrows. "Four thousand for twenty-four hours? Not a bad living." He shrugged out of the jacket. As he moved, his muscles clenched and released.

Tall, lean and strong, Lucas played as hard as he worked. Three mornings a week he spent an hour in the company gym. Riley knew, because she was usually there with him, going through her own exercise routine, with a small tape recorder tucked in her pocket. She took verbal notes, sometimes breathlessly, depending on her level of exercise and whether or not Lucas took off his shirt.

"Set up a brunch with the lawyers for Sunday," he said.

Nine months and fourteen days after she'd walked into his office for her initial interview and had been struck by lightning, Riley was finally prepared to do something about her completely foolish, completely inappropriate feelings. Because she couldn't go on like this anymore. Because she had to know if there was chance. Better to find out the truth, even if it was bad, than spend the rest of her life wondering.

"No," she said quietly.

"And then you can—" Lucas stared at her. "What did you say?"

She squared her shoulders. "No. You won't be having brunch with the lawyers on Sunday. You'll be with me. I didn't use the company check you gave me, Lucas. I used my own money and bought you myself. Starting Saturday at noon, you're mine for twenty-four hours."

Lucas couldn't have been more surprised if the limo had spoken. "You what?"

Riley's steady gaze never left his face. "I bought you myself. You're mine. I can schedule the brunch for Saturday, if you'd prefer." She reached for her cell phone.

Saturday would work, he thought, then mentally stumbled. _Riley_ had bought him? "Why?" he asked.

He'd seen his assistant go without sleep when helping him close a big deal. She'd worked with the flu, through holidays and during an earthquake. He'd shown up at her apartment in the middle of the night, where she'd accepted the invasion with good grace and an offer of coffee. But he'd never seen her blush or look away.

She placed her hands on her hips — accentuating the generous curves usually hidden by her trademark boxy suit jackets. "Your work ethic is admirable, Lucas, but you really need to get out of the office and get a life."

"I have a life."

"You don't have a life," she said. "There is nothing for you but Friar Industries. You have no family, no social life. I want to show you that there's a whole world out there you need to acquaint yourself with."

He had a life. A good life. Yes, work consumed him, but what else was there?

"A nice thought," he said, "but not necessary. I'll reimburse you for the money."

"No."

No argument, no persuasion, just a simple refusal. He'd known Riley long enough to understand that when she dug in her heels, she couldn't be budged. That was one of the things he liked about her. She wasn't afraid to push back when she thought he was wrong.

"Riley, this is a busy time for me."

"It's always busy. That's how you like it. It's just twenty-four hours, Lucas. It's the weekend, and the markets are closed. Everyone else is going to be taking it easy, so you don't have to worry about the business."

"What if I promise to take a vacation in a few months?"

She shook her head. "We both know you'd be lying. I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon. Dress casual."

"You make me sound like a workaholic."

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, not answering.

Lucas valued and respected Riley's opinion. She was a big reason for his success. She might be on the shy side when it came to social situations, but she had keen business insights. He didn't know what he'd do if he ever lost her. Together they were working toward a goal. "You really think I'm a workaholic?"

"When you aren't working, you're thinking or talking about work."

"My job is important to me." Growing up he'd worked to escape the confines of his hometown in Texas. Unlike his brothers, he never felt as if he fit in at his family's horse ranch. Lucas had always had dreams of striking it rich and finding success in the city. Once he started Friar Industries, he knew he'd found where he belonged and set to work. That wasn't being a workaholic. That was persevering toward a goal. "It takes hard work to succeed."

"No one questions the amount of work you do or your success, Lucas."

"I hear a 'but' coming."

" _But_ there's more to life than a job."

His gaze met her clear, caramel eyes. "You're at the office almost as much as I am."

"Someone has to look out for you." She looked away before he could respond.

Riley pulled up in front of Lucas' building with her own—for the weekend anyway—sleek silver BMW convertible.

She'd moved from simply shaking to feeling nauseous—definitely _not_ an improvement. Her best friend Maya might applaud Riley's tactics, but she would take her to task for lying.

"But I couldn't tell him the _real_ reason I bid on him," Riley murmured as she waved at the doorman and made her way to the elevator. "Lucas sees me as a piece of office furniture, not a woman. Telling him I care about him would be as interesting to him as if the fax machine declared its affection. Telling him I'm doing this for his own good is better. Really."

Had Maya been there, the woman would have looked upset, even though she wouldn't have said anything. Maya was a firm believer of _blunt honesty is the best policy_.

Riley exited the elevator on the top floor and made her way to Lucas' penthouse. She was still rationalizing the decision to keep her feelings to herself as she pushed the bell.

She half expected him not to be there. After all, he'd grumbled under his breath the entire previous afternoon, complaining about all the work he would be missing. But he'd never actually refused. She tried to tell herself that was a good thing.

When the door opened, she braced herself for more complaints. Then she was glad she was braced because while Lucas in a suit made her heart beat faster and Lucas in workout clothes made her want to throw herself in front of him, Lucas in jeans and a snug-fitting polo shirt took her breath away.

Soft worn denim hugged strong thighs and narrow hips, while the deep red shirt emphasized broad shoulders. Her gaze rose to the set of his square jaw, to his firm mouth that smiled ever so slightly. Finally she looked at his eyes—mesmerizing and today filled with questions. As usual, his dark blonde hair was short and layered, with a single lock drifting onto his forehead.

How many times had she wanted to lean close and push that wayward strand back into place? How many times had they worked late, pouring over schedules, planning meetings, all the while sitting shoulder to shoulder, his masculine scent invading her body and making it nearly impossible to stay rational?

"Right on time," he said. "You told me casual. Does this work?" He lightly brushed the front of his shirt.

She nodded because speaking was more than she could manage. She'd been planning this day since Lucas had walked into her office and tossed the charity request for the bachelor auction on her desk and announced his intention of having her buy him so he could be charitable but not lose time. So much rode on these few hours. If lucas could finally see her as a person rather than a machine—as a _woman_ —then maybe there was a chance. If not she would have to find a way to collect the bits of her broken heart and move on.

"So what's the plan?" he asked as he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. "I've been thinking about this and figured you'd want to get back at me for all the nights I made you work late. Are you going to have me wax your car? Paint your living room?"

She thought of the elegant and expensive day and evening she'd arranged. "Not exactly."

Not exactly was right, Lucas thought as they pulled up at the marina and Riley led the way to a beautiful seventy-foot yacht.

On board the captain greeted them. The boat was theirs for the next five hours. Where would they like to go?

"How about cruising up the coast?" Riley asked. "All right with you?"

As she spoke, a crewman opened a bottle of champagne and poured them each a glass. Lucas took in the luxurious cabin, the elegant furniture and the tray of hors d'oeuvres beside the champagne and frowned.

As he'd already told Riley, he'd expected her to force him into hard labor for their twenty-four hours together. He'd never thought she would come up with something like this.

"Lucas? The cruise?"

"Whatever you'd like."

He accepted the glass of champagne then followed Riley onto deck where they watched the crew cast off.

While their yacht moved through the maze of boats, Lucas found himself more interested in the woman standing next to him than in the spectacular view. She looked different. For once her long hair was loose, rather than up or in a braid. She wore tailored cream slacks and a matching blazer, while her silky shirt exactly matched her caramel eyes.

Had she been anyone else, he would have done the math. One yacht, one bottle of champagne and an entire night together. It equaled seduction to him. But that wasn't Riley's style…was it?

He realized he knew nothing about her personal life. Nothing about _her,_ save the fact that she made his world rotate smoothly.

If she had seduction in mind, did he want to participate?

She turned and caught him staring at her. One corner of her mouth curved up in a smile.

"What?" she asked.

"You're a surprise," he said.

"You mean the boat and everything."

"No. I mean you."

Lucas' voice rubbed against her like warm velvet. Riley had to consciously hold in a shiver, while she attempted a cool, sophisticated expression.

"I'm who I've always been," she told him.

His gaze never left her face. "Funny, I didn't notice."

Hardly news. "I'm like one of those multifunctional printers. Except I do more than print, copy and scan." Sad but true.

He chuckled. "If you're trying to make me forget work, you're doing a great job. All right, Riley, now that you have me here, what do you plan to do with me?"

She hated that her mind instantly flashed to the large master suite she'd seen when she'd toured the yacht before reserving it. The bed was large, and the amenities impressive enough to dazzle a prince…or a tycoon.

But she'd never been one to make the first move, and buying Lucas for the day had used up all her moxy.

"I plan to show you a good time."

"What does that involve?"

"A few hours here on the water. You told me once you used to crew on sailboats in the summer and that you missed it."

He frowned. "How could you remember that?"

Because she remembered everything he said, everything he did. He was her world. Either she evened the score and became his world, too, or she had to make a clean break and start her life over. That was the other reason she'd carefully planned their time together. If it wasn't going to work with Lucas, then this was goodbye.

"You painted such a vivid description of racing on those boats," she said instead, leaning against the railing. "So that's our afternoon. Tonight we're having dinner at a very exclusive restaurant. We have reservations for a surf-side table, followed by dancing at a club. Tomorrow—"

He threw her off by moving close and resting his free hand on top of hers. There was the cool brass railing beneath her fingers and his warm skin on top.

"What about after dinner and dancing?" he asked. "Where will I spend the night?"

Her mind chose that moment to seize up. Fortunately fate was smiling, and she was saved from answering by the appearance of a pod of gray whales directly in front of the boat.

"Aren't they beautiful?" she murmured as one whale blew water into the air.

Lucas leaned close. "If you're not going to tell me, you're going to have to show me eventually."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Wow... Thank you! I am overwhelmed by the compliments and all I can say is thank you so much. I really appreciate the fact that you like the story so far. As previously mentioned, I'm not completely satisfied with the story when I wrote it and because of that this story will be short. I am in the process of writing the last chapter and hopefully will be able to post it tomorrow, if not Friday the latest.**_

 _ **Again, thank you!**_

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 **Chapter 2**

They settled on chairs on the warm deck. Lucas stretched out his legs and studied Riley. What kind of a woman arranged for an afternoon like this, then blushed when he asked where he would spend the night? Two days ago, if someone had asked him what he knew about his assistant, he would have claimed complete knowledge of every part of her. Now he realized he knew nothing.

"Tell me about your family," he said.

She sipped her champagne. "There's not much to tell. I have a younger brother, Auggie. My dad's a teacher and my mom is a lawyer."

He frowned. "I didn't know that. Do you live with them?"

"No. I haven't live with them since I went to college. I do visit them every weekend." Her mouth softened into a tender smile. "My family's the best."

"So you're very close to them?"

"Yes. I also have a best friend but she's more a sister to me. She married my uncle. Now she has two little girls and another baby on the way."

"Everyone close?"

She looked surprised by the question. "Of course."

No doubt in her world, families stayed together, cared about one another. His world was very different.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Twenty-four."

"Why aren't you married?"

Humor darkened her eyes. "Perversity. The one I wanted to ask didn't, and the one I didn't want to ask did."

Which made him want to know who had been refused and who had been foolish enough not to inquire.

The boat docked at five-thirty. As Riley unlocked the sleek convertible, she glanced at him across the low cloth top.

"I had your tux dry-cleaned last week," she said. "It's hanging in your closet."

"Will I need it for the restaurant?"

"Yes. Dinner will be formal."

"What will you be wearing?"

"A dress."

"Long?"

She nodded.

"Low-cut?"

She swallowed, then nodded a second time.

He couldn't wait.

She'd said dinner followed by dancing. He had a feeling there was going to be a change in plans. After dinner he would take her for a walk. It would be quiet, romantic and private. There under the stars, he would get to know the very intriguing young woman who had suddenly appeared in his world. Or had she been there all along, and had he simply not noticed?

She slide onto the driver's seat, then inserted the key. But before she started the engine, her cell phone rang. She reached for her bag.

"Hello?"

Lucas watched the play of light and shadows on her face. Before today he'd never taken the time to notice the creamy perfection of her skin, or the dozen or so freckles across her nose. He liked the tiny line that formed between her eyebrows as she spoke and the fullness of her lips. How had he never seen any of this before? How had—

He realized Riley had tensed as she spoke. Her eyes widened with what he would have sworn was panic.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice low and strained. She listened before responding. "Of course. No, don't worry about it. I'll be right there."

She hung up and turned to him. "My friend Maya has gone into labor about four weeks early. My parents are out of town on vacation, and she doesn't have anyone else to look after her two girls. I'm sorry, but I need to take you home right away, then get to her house so they can leave for the hospital."

He took in her pinched mouth and the white knuckles where she gripped the steering wheel.

"Don't worry about me," he said. "Drive to your friend's. I'll find my own way from there."

 **...**

Worry dogged Riley for the entire drive to Maya's house. She barely remembered to put on the parking brake before jumping out of the car and racing up to the front door.

"Maya? Are you all right?" she called as she stepped inside.

She found her leaning against the wall by the stairs and panting heavily. The twins huddled close; Josh, their father, crouched beside them.

Maya looked up and waved slightly, even as she winced, then sighed.

"That one was strong. Look, girls, Riles is here."

The twins smiled, but didn't let go of their father. It took the promise of baking cookies, along with _two_ Disney movies to get them to loosen their grip.

"I'll be fine," Maya said as she briefly hugged Riley. "Thanks for coming over. I appreciate it."

Riley clung to her for a second. Maya might be calm on the inside, but Riley felt her worry as if it were her own. "Have Uncle Josh call me as soon as you know something."

"I promise."

Maya waddled toward the door. She paused when she saw Lucas. "Okay, I'm sure there's a story here, but it's going to have to wait."

Lucas watched the very pregnant woman being gently escorted out to the car by her husband, then he turned back to look at Riley sitting on the bottom step. She had a child on either side. The young girls were small, brown-haired with big blue eyes. They were identical, right down to the brown-and-red stains on the front of their kitten-covered T-shirts.

"Who are you?" one of the girls asked.

Riley smiled at him. "Sorry. I haven't done introductions. Lucas, these are my cousins, Rowan and Sabrina."

She touched each child's head as she said her name, but he knew there was no way he was going to keep them straight.

The girl on the left eyed him. "You've very tall," she said.

Not sure if that was a compliment or a complaint, he shoved his hands into his jeans and decided not to answer.

"I'm going to be stuck here for a while," Riley said. "I'll get in touch with my grandparents, but they won't be able to get here for a couple of hours. Until then, the twins only have me." She tried to smile, but it wobbled a bit at the corners. "I guess this means you're off the hook. For our date, I mean."

She was saying he could go.

"Riles, are we really gonna make cookies?" one of the girls asked.

"You bet. We'll make the batter and let it get cold overnight. In the morning we'll cut the cookies into shapes. When they're finished baking, we're going to decorate them. You'll have a good time."

She turned her attention back to him. "I can't fit the girls into the convertible. It doesn't have a back seat. So I can't drive you home. Would you mind calling a cab?"

He didn't know much about children. He'd been one once, but he did his best to forget those days. He didn't know much about pregnancy, either, but he could read the worry in Riley's eyes. She'd said Maya had gone into labor a few weeks early. Did that mean something could go wrong?

"You paid for twenty-four hours," he said, pulling his hands from him pockets and rolling up the sleeves. "So you're stuck with me. Besides, I've never made cookies. Maybe you could teach me."

He addressed that last bit to the two girls. They both grinned at him. "Makin' cookies is really fun," one of them told him. "You gonna like it."

 **...**

Making cookies wasn't just fun, it was also messy. By the time they'd made the batter and wrapped it in plastic so it could refrigerate overnight, there was enough flour, sugar and butter smeared over the kitchen to qualify it for demolition. Riley's cheeks were streaked with the mixture, as were the twins', and Lucas didn't want to know what he looked like.

After cookies, they'd settled in to watch two cartoon movies, by the end of which both girls had fallen asleep. Somehow having a small warm child draped across his chest and shoulder did something odd to his heart, he thought as he picked up Rowan and followed Riley upstairs.

She carried Sabrina and led the way into the twins' bedroom.

"I'm not going to bother putting them in their pj's," she said quietly. "There's no point in waking them up just to change their clothes."

Lucas put Rowan in her bed, while Riley took care of her sister. She'd barely pulled up the blanket when the phone rang.

As Riley raced down the hall, Lucas stayed in the girls' room. He checked that the night-light was on and then glanced around at the toys, books and clothes covering every surface. It was little more than controlled chaos, but homey. He could feel the love that filled this house.

He'd never thought of having a family. His goals had all been about business. For the first time, he wondered if he'd been missing something.

He heard Riley in the hallway and went out to greet her.

"That was Josh," she said as she sagged against the wall. "Maya's fine. They had a boy and he's doing really well. His lungs are working; he's okay. They're all okay."

She looked at him, smiled, covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.

Started, Lucas moved toward her. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Isn't this what you wanted to hear?"

She nodded. "I'm happy," she said between sobs. "I l-love my be-best friend, and I was so w-worried. It's just everything else is ruined."

He pulled her close, meaning to offer comfort. So he didn't let himself notice the heat of her body or how good she felt in his arms. "What's ruined?"

"Our day. I wanted to go to d-dinner with you and be beautiful. I wanted you to see me as a w-woman, not just a piece of office equipment. I spent all my savings on the boat and the dress and b-buying you at the auction, and now it's all ruined."

"What happened to you buying me because I needed a break from work?"

She dropped her hands to her sides and looked at him. Tears dampened her lashes and ran down her cheeks. She sniffed. "I lied."

She waited for him to look away. He didn't. This was her chance to show Lucas what she really wanted.

Still she hesitated. Scared. Excited. Unsure.

Do it now. Before it's too late, she thought.

She had nothing to lose. Except his respect, her job, her heart.

Riley inhaled sharply and kissed him. On the lips.

The moment her mouth touched Lucas', he tensed. Mortified, she drew back. But he reached for her, pulled her toward him and kissed her back.

Hot, moist, male.

As his arms encircled her, his mouth pressed against hers with an urgency she had only dreamed about.

Wow! Double wow!

She couldn't believe this was happening. Her knees trembled and she splayed her hands on his back, the ridges of muscles beneath her palms.

For months she'd imagined Lucas' kisses, but nothing could have prepared her for the real thing. More satisfying than fried chicken, more tempting than chocolate cupcakes. Her heart fluttered. Her pulse skittered. Sensations rippled. Heat pooled. Riley felt as if she'd just begun to feel, to see, to live.

Angling his head, he deepened the kiss. A kiss that hinted of things to come. Riley couldn't wait. She leaned into him, wanting more, so much more…

Nothing had prepared Lucas for the power and passion of Riley's kiss. The world around them stopped: It was only the two of them touching, exploring, kissing.

Returning her kiss broke every rule in the book. Stopping was the only thing that made sense. But the moment Riley's lips had touched his, Lucas' common sense had disappeared faster than shares of a hot IPO.

She wove her fingertips through his hair and showered kisses along his jawline. He wanted — no, needed — another taste of her. Cupping the back of her head with his hand, he reclaimed her lips. Sweet–oh–so–sweet.

Riley pressed her lips against his with an urgency and hunger that matched his own. A moan escaped her lips. The sound sent his already heated blood roaring. What little control he had slipped another notch.

"Lucas?" Riley muttered, not removing her lips from his.

He slightly backed away and stared at Riley. Wide–eyed, flushed cheeks and swollen lips, she looked utterly and thoroughly kissed. He was a jerk.

He brushed his hand through his hair. This was _Riley._ Riley Matthews. His assistant extraordinaire. One of the main reasons for his success. Too valuable to risk losing. Too sweet to risk hurting.

Yet he'd just crossed the line. Who was he kidding? He'd jumped ten feet over the line without a second thought.

He stepped back. "I shouldn't have done that."

"I'm the one who kissed you."

She had. Why had she?

Her reasons didn't matter. He was responsible for letting things get out of hand.

"But I kissed you back," he said. "And I'm…I'm your boss."

She pursed her lips. "I'm not planning to run straight to Human Resources if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not just that," he admitted. "You are important to me. I wouldn't want our kissing to interfere with our ability to work together."

Riley drew her brows together. "You're concerned about our working relationship?"

Of course he was.

"You're my assistant, Riley. The best I've ever had." His gaze implored her. "I wouldn't want to do anything to screw that up."

She stared at the ground. "And the kiss…"

"Was my mistake," he said firmly. Even though it had felt so right, so…perfect. Whether Riley complained to HR or not, Lucas knew hitting on his assistant — his young, single, beautiful assistant who baked like an angel and kissed like a dream — was just plain wrong. An abuse of his power and her trust. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I'm sorry, too."

Because she'd kissed him? Or because it could never happen again?

Lucas pulled himself together. He couldn't go there. He was her boss. He had to do the right thing — the only thing — for both their sakes.

The kiss wasn't a mistake. Lucas could lie to himself, but he couldn't fool Riley.

Sooner or later, he'd figure out what was really important in life. With or without her help. She was finished trying to anticipate his every need. She had her own needs to worry about.

 **...**

By Sunday morning, things had become much clearer. Riley was happy she'd gone after what she wanted. She had no regrets about that impulsive kiss. She probably should have done it a long time ago, but no going back. From now on, she was only looking forward. Looking and moving forward.

Riley stared at the work clothes strewn over her bed. Beige, navy, black. Every neutral piece mixed and matched. Talk about boring. No bright colors, no originality, nothing that said Riley.

Picking up a boxy navy jacket, she sighed. Sensible and professional. The cut hid those extra pounds when her weight fluctuated and was easy to wear. Just like her ponytail. She tossed the jacket on the bed and removed the rubber band. Hair cascaded past her shoulders.

She had accused Lucas of having no life, but she was just as guilty. Riley had been too busy working and building his career and loving him from afar to do anything for herself. She' become what she thought he needed and wanted her to be — an efficient, sensible, hardworking assistant. Only here, in her apartment, could she be herself.

But no longer. Riley owed that to herself.

Walking out of her bedroom, she stopped at the doorway and glanced back. It was time to say goodbye. It was time to show everyone at Friar Industries the real Riley. It was time…to go shopping.

Over the weekend, Lucas couldn't stop thinking about Riley and their kiss.

More than once he picked up the telephone, but hung up before dialing her number. He couldn't put them in another potentially romantic position. The consequences were too great.

Monday morning, he was ready to face whatever challenge arose. With the determination of a warrior intent on the enemy's front line, he attacked the contents of his inbox.

"Good morning, Lucas."

He glanced up from a financial report and did a double take at the beautiful woman in a purple fitted jacket and short skirt. The style flattered her shape, taking advantage of her curves and full breasts, and showed a lot of skin. He'd never seen so much of her legs before. "Riley?"

As she walked toward him, Lucas noticed the way she jiggled. He squirmed in his chair and glanced at her feet. New shoes — high–heeled pumps that showed off her long legs — had replaced her sensible flat ones.

"Did you have a nice weekend?" she asked with a polite smile.

She acted as if today was no different than any other day. But it was. _She_ was. He forced his gaze away before he started to drool.

Lucas cleared his throat. "Yes. Did you go…shopping?"

As she nodded, her long strands of hair shimmered. Soft hair meant for running fingers through. "And your hair?"

"I decided to try something new." She tilted her chin. "Do you like it?"

 _Like_ didn't begin to describe what he thought. He swallowed. Hard. But then he remembered her wind–blown ponytail and how the escaped tendrils had framed her face when they were at the yacth. "Yes, but I like your ponytails, too."

She studied him for a moment, then placed a folder on top of his inbox. "I have your travel plans for Rogers Inc."

He caught a whiff of something exotic. Not her normal flowery scent. What was going on? Not that it mattered. His thoughts about her were inappropriate. He had to stop. Now. "Thanks."

She smiled. "I forwarded you links to some articles you'll want to read."

"Okay." Something else was different about her. Her eyes. Same brown, but they stood out more. Makeup, he realized, but it wasn't just that. "What happened to your glasses?"

"I've had contacts for ages, but never wear them at work."

Lucas missed her turquoise frames. He missed her. Sure Riley–the–sexy–chick was hot, but so was Riley–his–fresh–faced–assistant. The realization made him feel even more unsettled. He didn't want to think of Riley as hot or even a woman, just his assistant. The way it had been before. "Why?"

She stared at him, a smile on her lips and a challenge in her eyes. "I thought it was time."

"Time for what?"

Riley's smile tightened. "A change."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"It's time for a change."

"You don't need to change. You're…" Perfect, Lucas thought. "Fine the way you are. Were."

"Maybe 'fine' isn't good enough." She placed his schedule for the day on his desk. "Maybe I want to show more of the real me."

"The real you is inside." He'd discovered it for himself over the past week. "It's always been inside you, Riley."

"Well, now it's time for it to come out." She motioned to his schedule. "You have lunch with a reporter from the _Financial Times,_ a presentation at two and the monthly staff meeting at four–thirty. Your computer will remind you."

Thorough as always. She was still his Riley. Correction, his assistant Riley.

"Do you have anything for me?" she asked.

Oh, yeah.

Stop before it's too late.

Lucas wet his lips. He still felt the effects of their kiss, and now he was feeling the effects of her. Time to put an end to this and get their relationship back to the comfortable place it had once been. "Why don't you sit?"

She did and readied her pen and notebook. "What's up?"

Her skirt, that's what. The hem inched up her thighs. Not all the willpower in the world could keep him from looking at that peek of thigh. He wanted to tell her something, but couldn't remember what.

"Lucas?"

Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead to keep a headache from exploding.

"Are you okay?" The tender concern in her voice tugged at his heart.

Heart tugging was not allowed. He opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. "Let's do this later. I just remembered I have a conference call."

"It's not on your schedule."

"It just came up."

She rose. "Later, then."

As she walked out of his office, the sway of her hips hypnotized him.

Get a grip, Friar.

Lucas glanced at the digital stock ticker scrolling by on his monitor, but he couldn't comprehend a symbol or number. All he could see was Riley. Beautiful, sexy Riley. Pretty, sweet Riley.

He wanted them both. Trouble, big trouble.

Riley expected some reaction from her co–workers about her new look, but their positive responses overwhelmed her. She wasn't used to so much attention and had forced herself to just say thank–you and not blush when anyone complimented her. Including Lucas.

She smiled. He liked the new her, but he still liked the old her, too.

 _The real you is inside. It's always been inside you, Riley._

His sincere words had wrapped around her like her grandmother's quilt. Yes, he had his priorities mixed up, but she'd always known there was something special about him. This past week had proved it. Her love for him had grown from what she now recognized as a crush and hero worship to something stronger, more real. If only things could be different for them…

The telephone rang. Her extension, not Lucas. "Riley Matthews."

"Good morning, Riley," a man's deep and cheerful voice bellowed through the receiver. "It's Uncle Eric."

Her Uncle Eric is a senator who had offered her a job two weeks ago. A position she'd turned down.

"Uncle Eric." Riley's heart hammered against her chest, but she managed to keep her voice calm. "How's it going?"

"Good. But it can get better if you accept my offer."

"I really appreciate the offer but I like it here. My job is great." But it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"I'm glad to hear that but I really need you," he said. "I still want you to be my executive assistant, niche."

She blew out a puff of air. "I thought Tommy is your assistant."

"Still is but he travels a lot for me and I need someone we can trust to do the daily office work," Uncle Eric said. "Just so you know what you're walking into, I'm not going to make it easy for you to say no this time."

Did she want to say no again? Did she want to turn down a high–profile job to look after Lucas while he ignore her?

No. She deserved more. But this change was more serious than shortening her skirt or letting her hair down. And, Riley realized, she was more than up for it.

Anticipation rippled through her. "I'm looking forward to it, Uncle Eric."

At three o'clock, Lucas followed two of the company's newest fund managers out of the meeting room. As they neared mahogany row — where the general partners and managing directors had offices — one manager elbowed the other.

"I'd like a piece of that," Scott Parsons muttered under his breath.

Lucas couldn't see who he meant, but the guy's suggestive tone spelled trouble. Not to mention a total disregard for company policy, a lack of respect for co–workers and unacceptable behavior from someone in his position.

"You want to share?" Eric Tom asked.

Scott laughed. "You think there's enough for both of us?"

Curiosity got the better of Lucas. He glanced over their heads and saw Riley with her back to them.

They were talking about Riley. His Riley.

His temperature shot up. His blood pressure spiraled. Muscles bunched and knotted. A protective instinct roared to life. He wanted to punch someone — two someones.

Don't lose control, Friar. She's worth it, but they aren't.

Lucas took a deep breath, three actually. "I don't know what the corporate environment was like where you came from, but here at Friar Industries, we respect employees like my hardworking, brilliant assistant over there."

He pushed his way between the two pea brains and strode toward Riley. She spoke with a very pregnant, very glowing Danielle Freed, the executive assistant to Connor Andersen. Lucas waited for Riley to notice him. She didn't. Funny, but she was normally so attuned to him.

"Riley," he said finally.

She straightened and turned. "What are you doing here?"

"The presentation, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," she sounded preoccupied.

"That graph you added at the last minute was a huge hit." He smiled. "Made several of the higher–ups take notice."

The corners of her mouth lifted. "Good for you."

"Are you heading down?"

"Yes." She waved the folder in her hand at Danielle. "I'll talk to you later."

She nodded.

"Lucas, we need to talk."

"I know." This wasn't the best time or place, but he wanted to get it over with. Inside the elevator, he pressed the button for their floor and the doors closed. "I wanted to apologize to you."

"For?"

"The kiss, remember?"

Lucas expected a smile. He didn't get one. The muscles in his shoulders tensed.

She watched the floor numbers decrease. "I see."

He doubt Riley does. He needed to save their working relationship, but he also needed to stop these crazy feelings about Riley. He needs to find a girlfriend, or perhaps a wife? As soon as he got married, things between them would return to normal. They had to, right? "It's time I find a wife."

The corners of her mouth tightened. "You need to find her yourself."

"I know, and I've already started," he explained. "I created a spreadsheet with information about each wife candidate to make sure I choose the correct one."

"Oh, Lucas." Riley sighed. "You're one of the best analysts on Wall Street, but you don't have a clue unless it relates to economics, the Dow or NASDAQ."

He drew his brows together. "What do you mean?"

"You research information to rate a company's stock performance — buy, sell, hold and all the variations in–between — but you can't use the same process to pick a wife." She bit her lip. "What are you going to do? Downgrade each of the women on your list until only one is left?"

Her words ripped his logically conceived method in two. He raised his chin. "That was the plan."

The elevator stopped, the doors opened, but no one stepped inside. The doors closed.

"A wife is not a commodity," Riley said. "She's the woman who will wake up next to you every morning, who will be the mother of your children, who will grow old with you."

"I understand that, but I have to be realistic." Lucas shifted his weight uneasily. "I'm not looking for true love. Just someone I can grow to love over time."

"No." Riley's lower lip trembled. "You have to follow your heart, not pick out a wife as if you were buying a new car and hope it's what you need over the long haul."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"This shouldn't be a desperate choice, Lucas."

Sweat broke out on his forehead. Spending time with Riley had given him a glimpse into what a couple — what a husband and wife — could have together. Yet finding that with someone took time. Something he didn't want to deal with. "What do you suggest?"

A beat passed. And another. Riley flipped her hair behind her shoulder and stared into his eyes. "Marry me."

The air whooshed from his lungs. Her proposal was an invitation into Heaven and a ticket straight to Hell. He stared at her. Stunned. Grateful. Confused.

The elevator stopped on another floor. The doors opened and three people entered, talking about a hit reality TV show. He felt as if his chest might explode. Who cared what bozo was going to be kicked off the show when the most important person in his life had just proposed.

 _Marry me._

Was she serious? No, she had to be kidding. But the way her gaze held his, he wondered.

 _Marry me._

Riley would be a great wife. He knew that with pulse–pounding certainty. She was caring, nurturing and an amazing kisser. She took care of everything and made life easy for him. Time after time, she'd worked to make him shine in the spotlight not wanting any credit except a simple thank–you. If he hadn't known what he wanted in a wife before, he knew now.

Marry Riley?

Lucas couldn't ask her to do that. He wasn't husband material. She deserved an equal in the area of romance and relationships. He also knew how focused she was on her career — all those late nights and weekends. She thrived at work as much as he did. Sure, she could find another position, but he couldn't ask her to do that. He didn't want to.

Selfish as it might be, he needed her in his office, not in his bed. Though, he had to admit, that was an appealing thought, but not enough for him to want another assistant. Surely she would understand.

The elevator stopped and the trio exited.

"So what do you say?" she asked him once the elevator doors closed. "Will you marry me?"

Her lighthearted tone contradicted the anticipation in her eyes. Emotion, an unfamiliar mix of regret and guilt, clogged his throat. He was doing the right thing, the only thing. "I'm flattered, Riley. Any man would be. But you deserve better than a guy like me."

"Isn't that for me to decide?"

"You're too valuable to me," he countered. "If we got married, you couldn't be my assistant."

"So I'm too valuable in the office," she said carefully. "That's it, right?"

The disappointment in her voice hit harder than a thousand–point drop in the Dow. Lucas hadn't wanted to hurt her, but he wasn't going to lie either. "Yes."

Anger flared in her eyes. She grabbed a pen from her notebook and scribbled _I quit_ across the piece of paper and shoved it at him.

"You're important to me, Riley," he said. "I'm not going to let you throw away your career for me."

"It's a job, Lucas, my job." She pursed her lips. "Nothing else."

"It's more than that, Riley." He wanted to convince her, needed her to agree with him so the gnawing anxiety in his gut would disappear. "We're in this together. You and me. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."

She tilted her chin. "You'd better figure it out because I'm no longer your assistant."

"No. You can't quit." His mind reeled. His stomach clenched. Lucas had never considered the possibility that Riley would leave him. "What will you do? Where will you go?"

"Senate's office," she said. "I'm Senator Eric Matthews' new executive assistant."

The pained expression on Lucas' face made Riley turn away from him. Nothing had worked out the way she'd planned — not telling him about her new job, not her well–intentioned, woefully misbegotten proposal. She'd only ended up hurting him and being hurt herself. Riley grimaced. They needed to talk, but not here. She walked toward her desk.

Lucas didn't want her help, not when it came to his personal life. He wanted her to be his assistant, period. She had resigned herself to it this past weekend. Today she had accepted it. A good thing, too.

He'd been correct about one thing. She deserved better than a guy like him. Riley knew what she wanted — true love, requited love and a happily–ever–after. She wasn't about to settle for anything less, not with Lucas or any other man.

At her desk, she turned to face him, but he wasn't there. Lucas hadn't followed her back. Her chest tightened. Where could he be?

 **…**

What was he going to do without Riley? Lucas stood frozen in the elevator. He couldn't move his feet, couldn't do anything but watch her walk away as the doors closed. He exited at the next stop.

 _I'm Senator Eric Matthews' new executive assistant._ Riley's words reverberated through Lucas' head. Anger and disbelief gave way to numbness.

As he walked into a mass of desks and noise, the air buzzed with energy. Lucas recognized the drive and ambition on the determined young faces surrounding him. Wasn't Riley the same nine months ago?

 _Riley._

A heaviness settled in the center of his chest. Instead of congratulating her as any proud, happy boss would, Lucas had acted — was acting — like a spoiled, jealous child who'd lost his favorite toy. Riley had achieved her goal, and he still thought only of himself. He hung his head.

Lucas walked farther into the sea of desks. A man, about thirty, sat behind one and smiled. "Nice call on Intel."

"Thanks." Lucas extended his arm and shook the man's hand. "Lucas Friar."

"I'm Dave Evans." He gave Lucas a cigar–shaped chocolate tied with a pink ribbon. "We just had a baby last week. Her name is Eva."

"Congratulations." Lucas stuck the cigar in his shirt pocket. Riley would like it. Riley. An instant, squeezing hurt gripped his heart. He ignored it. "Thanks."

"Do you have any kids?" Dave asked.

"No." Lucas noticed the pictures lining the edge of Dave's cluttered desk. "How many do you have?"

"Four including the newest addition." Dave's telephone rang. "Keeps me on my toes."

As the man answered his phone, Lucas looked at the pictures. A pretty blond woman with a toddler. Two smiling children eating ice cream. A family portrait.

A funny, tingly sensation grabbed hold of his stomach. Nothing on his desk suggested he had a family, let alone a mother, three brothers and a nephew. Nothing in his office suggested he had a life outside of work.

Because…he didn't.

The truth hit with the force of a sucker punch to his gut.

Lucas had a job. A job he'd allowed to take all his time. A job he'd allowed to define him. A job he'd allowed to be his only priority.

Talk about a pea–sized brain. There were smarter horses at the ranch.

Riley had tried to tell him, tried to teach him, tried to help him. But he hadn't listened. He hadn't understood. Until now.

Suddenly, everything was so clear. He was losing his assistant, but he could be gaining something so much better. Lucas rushed to the elevator. He knew exactly whose picture he wanted sitting on his desk. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

Lucas found her, more beautiful than ever, sitting at her computer. Hair up or down, glasses or contacts, Lucas didn't care. He just wanted her.

"I thought you might want this." He placed the chocolate cigar on her desk. "It's chocolate."

"T–thanks." She bit her lip. "I'm sor —"

"Please. Not yet." Lucas had made so many mistakes already. He wanted to do this right. "Do you have anything official about your new job?"

Concern filled her eyes. "No."

"I need you to write me a resignation letter. " His heart pounded in his throat, yet his voice remained steady, strong. "Something official saying you'll no longer be under my supervision."

She raised a brow. "Now?"

He nodded. "Please bring it into my office when you're finished."

As she typed, Lucas stood in his office, counting the seconds until she appeared. Two minutes later, she entered holding a piece of white paper. His blood pressure rose. He leaned against his desk. "Come in and close the door."

She did, handed him the paper and sat in her usual chair.

"Thanks." Lucas read it, a feeling of contentment and destiny rising inside him. He placed the paper on top of his inbox. "Now we can talk."

"I didn't mean for you to find out about my new position that way." The words tumbled from Riley's mouth. "I was upset and not thinking straight."

"That makes two of us."

"I can't use that as an excuse." Her eyes glistened. "I'm so sorry, Lucas."

How could he have not realized the depth of his feelings before? "You have nothing to apologize for, Riley. I'm happy for you. You deserve this."

She leaned forward. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

Her smile lifted him up. He needed that, needed her.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Riley. For months, I've taken advantage of your skills, your intelligence, you. I never gave a thought to your career, only my own. Can you forgive me?"

"I forgive you, Lucas."

Her words gave him the strength to continue. "I had my priorities all screwed up by putting work ahead of everything — everyone — else. Thanks to you, I learned there is more to success than a fancy title, an office with a view and a high salary." He watched her straighten. "I hope you'll give me another chance to show you I can be husband material. _Your_ husband material."

Her eyes widened.

"I want to marry you, Riley." He dropped down on bended knee and held her hand. "I want you to be my wife."

She jerked her hand away. "No you don't."

Lucas didn't blame her for not believing him. He'd hurt her. Badly. But he wasn't about to go down without a fight. "You are the only woman I want to marry. You are the only woman I love."

Riley's mouth formed a perfect O.

"And I don't need a spreadsheet to tell me that," he added. "Just my heart."

She blinked.

"I love you, Riley Matthews, but was too focused on my job to see it. I was so worried about the consequences, I forgot about the benefits." He pulled her up with him. "But with your resignation so clearly stated in the letter, ethics and company policy are no longer issues. Nothing is standing in my way. Our way."

Lucas lowered his mouth to hers, pressing against her lips with an aching need. She leaned into him, into his kiss, and he felt her heart beat against his chest. The rapid beat matched his own. He wove his fingers through her soft hair. He wanted the kiss to go on forever, but there was time, plenty of time for more. Slowly, reluctantly, he drew the kiss to an end.

"Will you marry me?" he murmured into her ear. Her warm breath caressed his neck, but she gave no answer. His heart rate sped up even more. "Riley?"

"Just a minute," she whispered. "I've been in love with you for so long, Lucas Friar, I just want to savor the moment."

Riley loved him. _Him._ He held her away so he could see her face, glowing and full of love. "I didn't know."

"No, you didn't." Riley grinned. "It's been quite aggravating."

The anticipation was killing him. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" She raised her chin. "I would be honored to be your wife."

Excitement rushed through him and settled around his overflowing heart. "It's going to have to be a short engagement."

"I know." Riley winked.

He brushed his lips over the top of her head. "I love you, Riley Matthews."

"And I love you, Luke Friar."

"Luke?" he asked.

Laugher gleamed in her eyes. "Lucas is too stuffy for someone whose job is no longer his entire life."

Luke pulled her into his arms. "I couldn't agree more."

 ** _The End_**

* * *

 ** _Thank you for all the positive reviews and comments. I'm happy that you guys enjoyed this story however short it was...this is not a good bye but instead...see you later._**

 ** _LIVE...LOVE...HAVE FUN :)_**


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